


Bro ==> Make Karkat Feel Awkward

by Terminality



Category: Homestuck
Genre: House of Striders AU, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Oral Sex, Xenobiology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminality/pseuds/Terminality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's one thing Karkat needs to learn about living in a house full of Striders: locked doors are meaningless, Bro is the most straightforward man in the world, and crushes don't stay unknown for very long.</p>
<p>((Based on some random headcanon of Striders + Karkat living in one big house together with other trolls occasionally paying visits and all of the awkward sexual situations anyone could ever want.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bro ==> Make Karkat Feel Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this. Trying a different style here to write a pairing that I have been craving for forever but apparently does not exist at all anywhere ever. Self-indulgent PWP to fill the hole in my heart that is Bro/Karkat. My life is a mess.

If there is anything Karkat should have learned while living with the Striders it's that locked doors are of little meaning. As a matter of course, a locked door is almost more likely to encourage an unexpected break-in then simply leaving it unlocked. He had begun to assume that the other members of the household simply took the sign of a locked door as a challenge, that the inhabitant of the room was attempting to do something secretive and private, and that this of course warranted knowing exactly what it was their housemate was up to behind closed doors.

Were Karkat paying attention the past few months, he would have realized that there is no exception to this rule. There is no hour too late or room too private for a Strider. Any time is worthy of a self-invitation to the private life of any fellow inhabitant of the household.

Which is precisely why Bro walks in at almost four in the morning, pleased as can be with himself for defeating yet another locked door with a glass of some kind of frothy beverage Karkat has figured out is named beer foaming away in his hand, and catches Karkat red handed.

Literally.

As in, shirt rolled up to his grubscars, pants discarded in a far corner of the room, legs spread and fingers intertwined with his bulge. He is mid moan when he realizes that he's no longer the only person in the room, and he flushes a bright red in embarrassment, the sound dying off with a strangled gasp.

“Oh,” Bro says, and Karkat freezes, two fingers in his nook and bulge wrapped delicately around his other hand and he breaks into incoherent swears, attempting to kick his leg to fling his blanket over his prone figure. It manages to cover his left foot, which isn't at all the desired effect. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you people, don't any of you know how to knock on a fucking door?” His voice is a raspy pant and Bro cocks an eyebrow at him while he pulls his hand away from his nook, diving for the blanket to cover himself completely. What the fuck does Bro even want with him. The older Striders never normally seek out his attention, let alone Bro, and he couldn't have picked a more inconvenient time to suddenly take an interest in him.

Bro shuts the door behind him and flashsteps to the end of the bed right as Karkat gets the blanket up and covering all of his body from neck down, and he takes a seat beside Karkat's feet. There's a moment of awkward silence before Karkat nudges Bro's leg with his toe.

“Either tell me what the fuck you want or get out, isn't it obvious that you aren't welcome right now,” he says, and he is acutely aware of the fact that his bulge is still unsheathed and throbbing, and he feels like an idiot, because the fact that Bro is sitting here staring at him with such burning intensity etched in every line of his face is only serving to turn him on more. He gives Bro another swift kick to the leg, attempting to get him to take a hint.

He doesn't. Instead, he leans down, sitting his drink on the floor by the bedside before inching closer to Karkat, hands resting on either side of his legs.

“Just checking in on you, no need to get so defensive with me,” Bro says, and Karkat thinks he sounds only a little intoxicated, which he isn't sure is a good or a bad thing. Bro shifts his weight to one arm, resting his hand on Karkat's knee. He stiffens, uncertain what to think.

It wouldn't be the first encounter he's had with Bro of this nature. There's something about the eldest Strider that Karkat finds almost hypnotizing in the way he's Dave but isn't, all confidence and aloof ease yet gentleness at the strangest possible moments. The most he has done is kiss Bro, however, and the last thing he had wanted was for Bro to get such an intimate look at him without any sort of warning whatsoever.

It is perhaps the most unattractive and unflattering way to finally let your crush see you nearly stark naked. He has a vague notion that he probably looks like absolute hell, and immediately regrets not brushing his hair. It is the pettiest and stupidest thought to ever cross his mind, ever. He wishes he hadn't thought it. Way to go, Karkat. Way to prove to everyone in the world what a shallow fuck you are.

He splutters out a protest when Bro grabs the end of the blanket, giving it a little tug and pulling it down to around the center of his abdomen.

“Fuck no,” he says, and Bro hesitates just a moment, fingers curled around the thin fabric, before letting go with a shrug.

“Come on, it's not like there's much privacy here any more,” Bro says, and Karkat interjects with a “I wonder who's fault that is” but Bro shrugs it off and continues. “Besides, gotta say I'm pretty curious about alien--”

Karkat cuts him off with a hiss and another kick, this time aimed at his hip instead of thigh because of his new position.

“Don't even say it, you're the most indecent human being out of the lot of you. Even worse than Dave, I swear to god. Do you have any sense of shame? Any at all? Is your puny human thinkpan really that inferior that it can't comprehend such a basic emotion as 'empathy' for the poor state of the person here who obviously wants you gone,” he hisses, and Bro chuckles and Karkat's nerves tingle from the top of his horns to the tip of his bulge at the sound. Maybe it's the overwhelming flurry of hormones talking, but the look Bro is giving him over the edge of his glasses is proving to be a bit too much for him to handle. He involuntarily moans in the back of his throat and immediately has to fight the compulsion to clamp his hand over his mouth in horror.

Bro acknowledges his moment of weakness with a pleased grin.

“Let me help you out with that,” he says, and Karkat gasps, sputtering out a vague protest that mostly stems from embarrassment at being caught in such a prone situation rather than an actual lack of desire. Bro senses that, gives Karkat another long look over his shades as if he is waiting for a signal of some kind, and when Karkat nods because he is uncertain what else he is supposed to be doing right now, Bro smiles at him.

It's as close to a real smile as Karkat has ever seen on the older Strider's face and he balks, scrambling to keep any sort of composure he still might possess. When Bro rests a hand on his stomach in a rare gesture of support and reassurance, Karkat lets out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding, trying to relax. The feel of the soft leather on his bare abdomen helps, somehow soothing and familiar even though it is a sensation he has rarely felt so far, and he can't help but frown when Bro pulls away to peel the glove off with his other hand.

As he does, he leans back on the edge of the bed, examining Karkat with a steady gaze. He squirms under that look, feeling even more of an idiot for reaching up to attempt to smooth down his impossible tangle of hair. Bro has taken his hat off and pushed his shades to the top of his head and he is looking straight at Karkat. It takes a moment to pull his gaze away from Bro's, and when he does, he focuses his eyes instead on the corner of the room.

“Damn,” Bro whispers, his voice barely audible even in the silence of the room, and he runs his thumb along Karkat's hipbones, one hand on either side, gaze clearly focused on his bulge. He situates himself off the edge of the bed, leaning down so he is closer to Karkat's chest. Karkat breaths a shaky breath, bites his lip to try to steady himself.

The entire experience feels somewhat unreal, like it is going too fast. He's not sure he even has a quadrant lined up for Dave, let alone his enigma of an older brother. His entire love life is one big complicated mess and here he is only making it worse.

It is, in retrospect, the story of his entire life. Some expert on relationships he is.

“Can I taste it?”

He decides, with those words and the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach and aching throb of his bulge and nook, that he does not care one single bit at this present moment. He can worry about that later – now that he thinks about it, this could very well be the situation he had been screaming at himself about three days ago – and he decides he will just let it run its course.

“Oh my god,” Karkat breaths, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. “Who does that! Are all humans this depraved?” Bro chuckles and the sound hits a chord somewhere in Karkat's spine, sending shivers down his body.

“Won't do it if you don't want me to, you know. I figured I'd be the proper gentleman here and help you out, is all,” he says, and he leans back away from Karkat's body and the sudden lack of closeness combined with the movement in the complete opposite direction than what Karkat wants sends him into a momentary panic. He reaches down with the hand not covering his face and clamps it around Bro's wrist, desperate to prevent him from leaving and abandoning him. Bro pauses, but doesn't speak, clearly waiting for Karkat to say something.

It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts and build up the courage to open his mouth again, and when he does, it's barely above a whisper.

“All right,” he stutters, pulling his arm away from his eyes to look over at Bro in an attempt to gauge any sort of response. Bro nods at him before gathering up the rest of the blanket, pulling it off of Karkat's figure before sitting it on the corner of the bed. He takes a step back from the bed, his gaze sweeping over Karkat's body, and Karkat has the distinct feeling that he is on display, before Bro kneels down and pulls Karkat closer to him. Bro hooks Karkat's legs over his shoulders at the knee, and he moves with Bro's hands on him, stomach a tight coil of apprehension and arousal and face and chest burning a vibrant pink of embarrassment.

“I'm gonna go ahead and assume this works the same as I'm thinkin' it should,” Bro starts, and Karkat opens his mouth to protest that that's not really the sort of thing you want to hear from someone so close to your nook before Bro touches a finger to his opening and the words are lost in a sharp gasp. Bro looks pleased with the response, and he presses a kiss to the insides of Karkat's thighs as he pushes his fingers in to the first knuckle, the delicate touch almost achingly light compared to where Karkat had been before Bro had walked in on him. Instinctively he rolls his hips, the movement serving to push Bro's fingers in a little further, and Bro greets his eagerness with another gentle press of his lips on Karkat's skin.

“You don't,” Karkat starts, then stops, awkward and uncertain, shaking his head and pressing his face back into the crook of his elbow to hide his awkwardness. He regrets being such an idiot all the time, and takes a deep breath to muster up what courage he can. “You don't have to be so fucking gentle.”

Bro responds with a short hum.

“Whatever you say, Karkat,” Bro says, pulling his fingers out before pushing them back in again, and Karkat hisses in pleasure and surprise at the movement. He clings to the fringes of his composure, breath coming in quiet little gasps every time Bro repeats the movement. He manages to keep his cool for a total of two minutes before Bro leans forward and runs his tongue along the edges of his nook, around and between his now spread fingers.

Karkat gasps, sharp and surprised and very much appreciative. He has never in his life felt this good before – Bro possesses a certain finesse that his younger brother does not – and his nerves feel as if they are on fire. He pants out something that sounds suspiciously like Bro's name, one hand sliding down his chest to tangle with his bulge and the other firmly settling itself in Bro's gelled hair. It's soft despite the hair product, and Karkat absently shakes it loose, displacing the perfectly crafted hairstyle and enjoying the way the pale-blonde strands fall around Bro's closed eyes. Bro hums in acknowledgment of Karkat's movements, and the vibration against his nook makes him feel like he is going to explode.

“Oh, oh my god,” he pants, grip tightening in Bro's hair and bulge curling tight around his wrist and fingers. He can feel the heat build up in the pit of his stomach and base of his bulge and he lets out a strangled moan when Bro picks up his pace just a little. “You should, augh fuck, you should move or something.”

Bro opens one eye, catches Karkat's gaze with his own steady, confident one, and Karkat completely loses any remaining ounce of hesitation he may have possessed. He comes with a shutter and hiss of breath between his clenched teeth, doing his best to resist the urge to grind his hips against Bro's open mouth. When he has finished, he pulls his hands away and props himself up on his elbows, breaths short and quick.

Bro leans back and looks at him with a lopsided grin, attempting to wipe the spill of light pink genetic fluid off of his face with the back of his hand. He examines the front of his shirt with a cocked eyebrow, and Karkat worries for a moment that he is going to be angry with him for ruining his clothes. He'd tried to warn him, dammit! It's not his fault he hadn't listened to him.

When Bro opens his mouth, Karkat is expecting to be berated for his past stupidity. Instead he gets a quiet laugh.

“Well, shit. You weren't kidding, huh?” Karkat rolls his eyes at him, hopes immediately after that Bro didn't see it.

“Of course not, why the hell would I be.” Bro just shrugs in response, untangling himself from Karkat's legs and taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. Karkat lies in silence for a moment, his legs dangling over the side of the bed and feeling surprisingly exhausted for the first time all night. He looks over at his clock as Bro sits, noting that it is nearing five in the morning.

There is a moment where Karkat is uncertain what he should say or do, and he looks at everything in the room but Bro, who he can tell is watching him intently. He has pulled his shades back down over his eyes and is attempting to push his hair back into shape in vain, yet Karkat is sure he has not stopped looking at him since he walked in the room nearly an hour ago.

Karkat sighs.

“Um. Thanks, I guess?” It is probably a stupid thing to say, and he mentally berates himself for it, like he has been all night. He is the king of stupid things to say. He deserves a title and crown and everything, so everyone around can know ahead of time that everything that comes out of his mouth is stupid.

Bro laughs – Karkat decides he could get very used to that sound – before getting to his feet, picking up his hat and glass of now-warm beer, which he takes a drink of anyway. Karkat pulls himself the rest of the way onto the bed and watches Bro move, fascinated and almost shell-shocked he is so unsure what to say or do now, in this strange, awkward afterglow.

“Not a problem. You can just make it up to me later, hmm?” He gets another good laugh out of the blush that spreads over Karkat's face and shoulders at his remark, waving to Karkat over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Karkat rolls onto his side, not bothering to get dressed again and opting instead to surround himself in blankets and sleep naked. For all its strangeness, he has to admit that it was a good night, even if he never did quite figure out what Bro had come into his room for in the first place.

He will take Bro up on that offer, later, as a matter of pride and curiosity (and maybe a twinge of something a little too red for Karkat's own good). Perhaps he can convince Dave to teach him the trick to unlocking the doors in the Strider household.


End file.
